


You Will Be Found

by A_Bean



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Dark Magic, Dark is fucking MEAN, Deep character analyzation, Ill probably think of more egos as I go along, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incubi, Magic-Users, No pairings - Freeform, Personality traits, Plot Twists, Poor Wilford, Really long explanation of the plot at the end, TW- self harm, Violence, What Have I Done, insane character, never let mark see this, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-29 20:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Bean/pseuds/A_Bean
Summary: Viv the Survivalist has lived in Monster Gulch for as long as he can remember. But when he meets an eccentric character that pushes him towards a journey like no other, he finds himself and his purpose along the way.***PLEASE READ***I got the idea of Viv from Random Encounter's 'Resident Enis' starring Markiplier. This will probably not have any pairings in it- it's an adventure story. The prologue is super short but it gets a hell of a lot longer. Please take the time to read this, I've been developing this story for about two years on paper. Thanks!





	1. Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the basics:  
> the will to survive  
> empathy

"Come back to me," came the whisper, and he sat straight up in his pile of blankets, a cold sweat on his head. He took the moment to breathe, messing with his hair.

 _The same nightmare,_ he thought to himself, looking outside of his cave and seeing a dark horizon. He knew, despite the early hour, he would not be going back to sleep, so he flopped back down and tried to remember his dream, and what it meant. 

He knew he'd had the dream before; the face of the woman whispering  _come back to me_ was all too familiar. He wished he knew her face though, and why she was saying that. And the rest of the dream, of a loud ringing noise reverberating around him, a large white room, and the feeling of fear, real actual  _terror_ , was always what woke him up after he saw the woman's face. 

He wished he knew what it meant. 

Sighing, he finally got out of bed about ten minutes later and began a fire. It was early spring, which meant no snow, but it was still cold. Monster Gulch was unpredictable in literally everything, so he always had to be on his guard, but fire and light helped keep both the cold and monsters at bay. Thankfully, living here for as long as he had, he'd picked up a few things on how to survive. Keeping fire with you in the dark was one of them. 

Once the fire was lit and going strong, he looked in his makeshift bag for food and unfortunately found none. He didn't even have any berries, which there seemed to always be many of. Being careful as he was, he only ate once a day, which freed up time that would be used for hunting and foraging to be used for fortifying his living space and helping other people out when they stumbled across him or vice versa. He'd saved many lives by stopping something horrible from happening, but he still tended to stick to himself. What was odd though was that he could always tell that something was wrong, like what kind of emotion they were feeling. Every time it happened he shook it off, but it bothered him that he could read people so easily. 

Sighing, he looked outside at the sky and turned his thoughts back to food. He'd have to go outside soon, plus it couldn't be nighttime for much longer. And if he brought his fire with him it shouldn't be too bad... And he  _did_ need to find food soon. 

Making his decision, he turned back inside and rolled his blankets up, attaching them to his bag and putting all his sparse belongings in it- flint, twine, a canteen, a  _lot_ of cloth, and various medical items. He tied his machete to his waist for easy access, then found a large branch two steps away from the entrance of his cave and wrapped a small piece of cloth around it, then lit it and stomped out the stationary fire. With one hand on his machete and the other holding the flaming branch, he stepped out of his cave and into the darkness. 

 


	2. Self-Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He learns he doesn't like incubi, but a lot faster than normal people do. Unfortunately, this one won't leave him alone.

Maybe it really was earlier than he had guessed. The sun had not yet risen and the stars in the sky were still visible. His stomach was uncomfortably empty, so he kept trekking on until he came upon what seemed to be berry bushes without the berries. 

The bushes made a clearing in a sort of oval shape. And they  _looked_ like they were berry bushes, but they were barren. He felt real disappointment inside himself at this. 

_snap_

He whirled around, the fire making a 'woosh' sound as he did. "Hello?"

Another snap came, but it came from his fire-stick. He sighed. "Stupid me." He looked around the clearing, though, with the moon shining through the trees at its border. "Suspicious."

"Not really," a voice came. "I mean,  _I_ live here, and  _I'm_ Bim Trimmer. So... it's not really suspicious at all." 

Quicker than lightning, the machete was out and ready to be used against any kind of monster. "I don't know who that is," the wary-yet-dangerous man said. "So why don't you come out and show yourself?"

"Such a polite request," the voice said again. "How could I refuse?"

And suddenly, a man dressed in an immaculate black suit was in front of him. While the suit was nice, he had on wire-rimmed glasses and had black hair that fell to the left side. What was most interesting was the eerie white eyes behind the glasses, though. 

"Bim Trimmer, in the flesh," the white-eyed man said. "What's your name, kid?"

"I..." his mouth was too hard to work. Those eyes were  _captivating._ He couldn't move, couldn't say anything, couldn't  _do_ anything except for look at those eyes, glinting in the firelight. He stared into those eyes for years, for hours and hours and absolutely no time at all. 

Then, Bim Trimmer blinked, and he could think for himself. "I- what?"

"What's your name?" The sun had risen. When did that happen??

He raised his machete again. "I don't have a name. And I'm not a kid."

"Aw, come on, what's a show host without his willing contestant? That's no way to play," Bim said, taking one step closer, only to have the machete thrown into his face. He held his hands in surrender. "All I want to know is your name!"

"I told you, I don't  _have_ a name," he muttered. 

"Everyone's got a name," Bim said.

"Well, I  _don't_ ," he said, turning to leave. "And I'm smart enough to not give you one anyway."

"Don't be like that," Bim pleaded, following him. "I'll just give you a name. Where are we going?"

"I don't know," he admitted, dousing the fire in a nearby pond since the sun was in the sky now. "Away from you, probably."

"You can't get rid of me that easy," Bim said. "Now, how does Jeff sound?"

He made a face. "Oh, god, it's another Enis, isn't it," he groaned.

" I'll take that as a no. Who's Enis?"

"Nobody."

Bim stopped, thinking, but still following. It was then that his companion realized Bim was floating in the air next to him. 

"What do you do?" Bim asked him. 

"I survive," he said gruffly. "Sometimes I help other people. But not often."

Bim snapped his fingers. "I've got it! I'll call you  _Viv._ "

"I can't change your mind, can I," the newly dubbed Viv deadpanned. 

"Nope."

"Okay," he consented. It wasn't too bad of a name, he guessed. 

"Why'd you stop using your name?" Bim asked as Viv cut through some brambles. 

"I stopped using it because it's dangerous to have a name. And the second everyone I loved  _died_ I swore I'd never get close to anyone again. And that means not using my name." With a final  _whack_ , the brambles were gone. Bim looked stunned. 

"Plus, I hate this place." Viv was ahead of him now. Bim remembered he was following. 

"Why did you come here then?" Bim asked. 

"I've been here for as long as I can remember," Viv said. "And I could ask you the same thing."

" _I_ was born here," Bim said defensively. "But I haven't been out much."

"You're an incubus," Viv said. At Bim's look of confusion, he said, "What, you really thought I wouldn't find out? Be more subtle with your eyes and flying and people won't find out." 

Bim lowered himself slightly, pouting.

"Anyway, incubi need other people to survive, don't they?"

"Well, yeah, but people always found me," Bim said. 

Viv shot a sideways glance at him. "So why leave now?"

Bim chuckled and flew above his companion. "That's for  _me_ to know, and  _you,_ " he booped Viv on the nose, "to find out."

Viv glared at the incubus and kept walking. 

"So, where are you going?" Bim asked him again. 

Viv sighed. "I need to find food. I haven't eaten today."

"Neither have I," Bim said. "I'd try your feelings but you don't really seem to have any, or you're just really good at hiding them."

 "Maybe I  _don't_ have any," Viv said, turning to the left abruptly. "You do, though." 

"Oho, you know everything, don't you?" Bim asked. "Fine then. I'll find someone else to mooch off of. Anyway, you look too scary."

"I'm not scary," Viv said. 

"Have you ever looked at yourself?" Bim said. "You really should."

"I try to avoid doing that," Viv replied. 

"Why? Did you know you have red hair?"

Viv stopped. "Red hair?"

"Yeah," Bim said, flourishing a mirror he had suddenly. "Take a look."

Viv took there mirror and looked at himself for the first time he could remember. He looked very Korean-German if he could describe his ethnicity. As Bim had said, he had red hair on the top of his head, but on the sides it was black. He had a beard and a mustache. Brown eyes looked out at him from the mirror. 

"Damn I'm handsome," was the first thing out of his mouth. 

"You bet your ass," Bim said, taking back his mirror. "Now you know what you look like. So, why do you look so scary?"

"I don't, really," he said. He wouldn't have characterized himself as scary. "And I don't know why  _you_ of all people think I am. You're the incubus here."

"Hey, incubi are supposed to look nice," Bim said defensively. "But you are scary. In that firelight this morning, you held up your machete and you were  _scary._ And you still haven't told me your name, like, someone without a name is also scary."

"Okay, first off,  _I don't have a name._ We've been over this. And so what? It was just the fire, and I didn't know what I was up against. Plus I knew physical damage would hurt incubi." 

"See! And you know everything. How? Why do you know so many things?" Bim pressed. If Viv hadn't known any better, it sounded like there was a tone of something more to his voice, like he knew something Viv didn't.

"I don't know everything. I just keep track of what I need to know." He stiffened, looking to the west. "There's a village over there."

"How do you even know that??" Bim said exasperatedly. "There isn't any village."

"I just know, okay?" Viv said, shoulders hunching. "There, over there, it's a village." He pointed to a cluster of trees at the beginning of a forest. Even from their higher vantage point, Bim couldn't see any village.

"Is it dangerous?" Bim asked. 

Viv seemed to think for a moment. "...no," he said finally. "The people there aren't dangerous, just scared of something."

Bim was suddenly struck with an idea. "What are they?" He asked. 

Viv narrowed his eyes. "Human."

"Why are they so afraid?" Bim pressured.

His friend concentrated. "Um... there's... something living near their village they're afraid of. A... a were...wolf?" He closed his eyes in concentration. "A were...something."He opened his eyes and Bim saw that they were glowing golden.

"Where does it live?" Bim asked, landing on the ground and stepping closer. 

"It lives... three miles away?" Viv nodded. "Three miles. I can sense it from here."

"So what's the situation?" 

Viv winced a little. "They're both scared," he said. "But the village is scared of the animal, and the animal is afraid of... something else. I can't tell."

"Try harder," Bim urged. 

"I..." Viv's head ducked and he winced again. "I don't know." 

Bim snapped his fingers next to Viv's ear and the glow in his eyes disappeared. He jumped away, startled. 

"What the hell was that?" Bim demanded. 

"Er, what was what?"

"Your eyes just got all... glowy, and you knew all the details I asked you for, except that last one." Bim hovered in the air again. "What was that?"

"I don't know what you're-" Viv began, but Bim cut him off. 

"Bull. You can, like, tell the future or something. Spill it, Viv." He crossed his arms. 

Finally, Viv conceded. "Fine. But I'll tell you on the way, okay? We- I- have to fix that situation." The two began making their way in the direction of the forest, near the village Viv had said was there. 

"Anyway," he began dubitably, "I have some sort of magic."

"Really," Bim deadpanned. "I hadn't noticed."

Viv shot him a glare. "Well, I don't know what kind of magic it  _is_. All I know is that I can sense emotions really well, and situations and see how to best deal with the emotions and the situation at the same time."

Bim flew around Viv, looking very hard. He knew what auras looked like, and his suspicion was right- there was one around Viv, glowing faintly. 

Viv, however, couldn't see anything. "What are you looking at?"

"Your aura," Bim said, half in awe. "You're an empath. And..." he paused. "It tastes like oranges."

Viv leaned away, walking with more distance between them. "Don't  _lick_ me." He began running across the desert-like terrain, feeling the wind in his hair. He laughed aloud- running was something he enjoyed a lot when he wasn't face-to-face with death. "I'll race you!"

"I didn't lick you!" Bim said indignantly, flying faster to keep up with his friend. "We've got a  _lot_ to test you on, by the way!"


	3. The Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside the Manor, a storm is brewing....

_Somewhere very, very far away..._

* * *

 

 _There it is,_ the good doctor thought to himself.  _Markiplier Manor._

It looked like a castle from a horror movie. Dark and foreboding, shadows and things lurking in the corners. And there were even rain clouds beginning to gather. 

 _What an ambiance,_ the doctor mused. He didn't like Markiplier Manor. He did his best to stay away from it at most times, but sometimes he would be summoned to do terrible things for the castle's occupants. He felt like Frankenstein every time he had to step foot in the place. 

With a sigh, he gripped his case and made his way up to the door. It opened for him, as it always did, and he stepped into the entrance hall, not knowing exactly what would await him. 

"Ooooooooh," a voice sang. "S-somebody's h-he-heeeerree!!"

Dr. Iplier nodded his head to the disembodied voice. "Good day, Wilford."

With a flash of pink, the aforementioned man was standing in front of him. He twitched once. "The good doctor! What brings-s-s you h-he-here?" 

"He asked me to come today and do something He has wanted to do with the Googles for a while," Dr. Iplier responded. "How's your head?"

Wilford hissed, blinking out of existence repeatedly, only to come back somehow defying gravity. "Ssss goin' good Doc!" He laughed in that unsettling way that insane people do. "The voices, getting louder-!" 

 "I'll have a look later, Wilford," the doctor said, concerned for the poor man. Wilford had developed a personality disorder after he had been separated from his friends and from Mark especially, unable to ever leave the manor they were now in. It didn't help that Damien and Celine had died here as well. Will had become like a ghost, wandering the halls wailing for his friends. Dr. Iplier's biggest concern was his mind, which he was pretty sure was broken in some way or another. Another concern was that Wilford possessed powers to warp reality and was limited to what he could use, ending up in a large pink explosion at least once a week. 

"Where is He?" Dr. Iplier said, making his way to what he mentally dubbed the throne room. 

Wilford giggled for four minutes, following the doctor and again warping reality around them as they looked around. Finally, his giggles subsided. "H-he- he's in the ballroom!!" His head twitched, Wilford making a 'tch' noise each time it did, yet grinning the whole time anyway.  

The ballroom, of course, was where He did his awful experiments. Usually, it was the Googles subjected to the experiments, as they were robots and couldn't feel anything, and were technically immortal (as they all were), so if they 'died' they'd just respawn again within the hour.

The ringing got louder as he neared the room, and reality was becoming more grey the more he walked and Wilford...moved however Wilford moved (a mix between walking, teleporting, and flying). 

"Again!" Came the loud shout from inside. Wilford collapsed into laughter again even though there was nothing funny.

_Such are the trials of an insane man._

The doctor opened the door to a scene he never thought he would see. 

All four Googles were holding hands and staring intently at each other and Darkiplier Himself was watching them. 

"What's going on here?!" The good doctor asked, before dropping his case and clapping his hands over his mouth in alarm.

Darkiplier looked over at him angrily, but only growled, "Get in here."

Dr. Iplier hastened to obey. Wilford came in too but was soon thrown out by Dark because he kept filling the room with sticky cotton candy.

"My newest idea is for fusions to be able to work," Dark explained. "When two or more egos combine to make a deadly weapon." 

Dr. Iplier thought for a moment. "How far have you gotten?" 

Dark motioned to Google_Blue and Google_Green. "They fused, shortly," he said. "And then they un-fused, something about incompatible. So I'm trying to make a... Google Chrome, if you'd call it, out of all of them, because they'd all be compatible with each other. Or at least they _should_." Dark sent an annoyed glance to the robots. They managed to look mildly scared, despite being robots. Except for Google_Blue, who managed to keep his stoic face.

"I see," the good doctor said. "Google_Blue, would you mind opening your control panel?" 

"Admin password required," Google_Blue said in a monotone voice. 

"Access granted. Get on with it, you useless pile of metal," Dark said menacingly.

Dr. Iplier scrolled through the panel, finally finding what he was looking for underneath the tab 'downloads'. He pressed it, and Google_Blue straightened uncomfortably. 

"Allow changes to be made?" He said, a screen popping up, asking for the admin password. 

"What are you trying to do?" Dark asked the doctor suspiciously. 

"This will let him upload the software update he had to let them all combine into your 'Google Chrome,'" Dr. Iplier explained. "And it will let him re-download it when they unfuse, so they won't be stuck as a fusion forever."

Dark merely looked at him. Dr. Iplier knew him well enough at this point to know that Dark thought this idea was a good one. 

"We need the admin password though," Google_Red said. "The only one who has the password is Will or M-" 

Dark snapped his fingers and Google_Red's voice instantly stopped working. He motioned to the doctor. "Get Wilford in here."

Sighing, the doctor left the room in search of the bubblegum bitch. "Wilford?" He called into the empty halls. 

No reply. The doctor began the search, looking in every room, then moving to the upper floors. "Will, we need you," he called again. 

The doctor literally could not find the pink ego; he had searched nearly every room in the house. In one room he had found a dead bat and even a library somewhere else, but no Wilford. 

Finally, he came to the upstairs bathroom next to the last bedroom there was. He opened the door and there was Wilford. 

"Oh my god," Dr. Iplier said upon seeing his patient covered in blood. "Will! Are you okay?"

Wilford was on the floor, blood dripping from the cuts on his arms. He held a razor in his hand. 

"Oh my god, oh my god," Dr. Iplier panicked. "Will, what are you doing?!"

The pink man rocked back and forth. "They ssssssssaid, they sssssaid, you don't need me."

"They're  _wrong,_ " Dr. Iplier said, gently taking the blood-covered razor from Wilford. "We do need you. I was just coming to find you  _because_ we need you." 

"Th-they're.... they're never wrong," Wilford said with faith. "The v-voicesssss." He grabbed for the razor again, giggling, tears pouring out of his eyes. 

"Wilford, we  _need_ you," Dr. Iplier said, shaking him. He'd put the razor on the sink, out of reach. "We do. Mark does too."

"M-Mark?" His voice was broken, and it tugged on the good doctor's heart. 

"Yeah," he said. He pulled out bandages and rubbing alcohol from his case and began cleaning the blood off of Wilford's left arm. "You were the first, you know? The first ego. The first of all of us."

"B-but," Wilford cry-giggled again. "He's not  _here._ H-he's gone, like, like Damien, and he- he don't need me."

"He's not gone," Dr. Iplier tried to reassure the ego. "You know where he is, Will."

"Gone!" Wilford shouted. "He-he-he's gone and I'm  _useless._ "

"You're not useless," the doctor said. "We wanted to find you because we need your help." 

"Useless," Wilford sobbed, rocking back and forth. "Useless, useless,  _useless useless useless useless-"_ He wrenched his arm out of the doctor's grip and began hitting himself in the head. "Useless!" 

"No, Wilford, no!" Dr. Iplier shouted, trying to grab his flailing hands. "You are  _not_ useless."

Wilford hiccuped through his tears. "Am."

"You are not," the doctor said, sitting next to him and finishing the bandages on his right arm. "You  _are_ useful. Mark thinks so."  

"Mark isn't  _here,_ " he said bitterly. That was the first sentence the doctor had ever heard Wilford say correctly, without stuttering and improper grammar. 

"He is," Dr. Iplier said, finishing the bandage. "You know where he is."

"I can't help him," Wilford said, running his hands through his hair. "Can't h-help him."

The doctor said nothing. He knew none of them in the manor could help besides himself, as the only ego who could go both in and outside of the manor at this point. Until Mark arrived, the rest could not enter or leave. 

But the unfortunate thing was that nobody knew when Mark would arrive.

"We still need you," Dr. Iplier said after a while, breaking the silence. "I came to find you because we need you."

Wilford began giggling again but there was no joy. The doctor stood and pulled Wilford into his arms, shifting him so he was carrying him bridal-style.   
"Come on," he said. "We need your help." 

The pink ego said nothing, letting his tears dissolve into the doctor's shirt, laughing the whole way.

* * *

Outside the ballroom again, the Doctor set down Wilford on the floor and put his hands on his shoulders. "We need you to focus," he said. "What is Mark's password for Google?"

"D-d-don't know," Wilford said, "I can't- I can't think." He put his hands in his hair, rocking back and forth. "Can't- can't think."

"Come on, come on," the good doctor said. "Something to do with Amy? YouTube? Himself?"

"Arrgh!" Wilford said, pushing the doctor away with a blast of magic. "Can't  _think!_ "

Dr. Iplier wiped the blood away from his mouth. "I need you to just calm down, Will," he said. He knew that this was the point where Wilford didn't want to be touched. Sometimes it helped and sometimes it didn't, and right now, it didn't. "Breathe in and breathe out." 

The pink and yellow man took his advice. He seemed to be calmer after a moment. 

"There we go," Dr. Iplier said. "Now, Will, I know you can do it. We need you for this. I know you can do it." 

Wilford nodded shakily. He closed his eyes. 

"How about Tyler?" The Doctor offered. "Ethan? Kathryn? Chica?"

Wilford's eyes snapped open. "Chica-bica! S-sssomething to do with Ch-ch-chica."

"Yes! Thank you, Wilford!" The Doctor jumped up and raced into the ballroom. "Come on, He'll get upset if we take too long." He held the door open. Wilford entered, crying.

 


End file.
